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Cessation

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The consistency of the storm was beginning to irritate Renata to the point that she wanted to take out her aggression on whoever it was that had decided to call Roswell, New Mexico an arid location. Two days of unrelenting showers had pressed her good humor, what little she could claim to possess, to the breaking point. She never minded the rain when she was at home, but being holed up in her house with her books and mementos was vastly different than being stuck in a crummy hotel room.

Jordan watched her as she restlessly paced in front of the window. They would leave in four days and bid a final farewell to the only people they had ever located who were like them. He and Renata had been on their own for so long, a lost pair of alien/human hybrids among a sea of pure humans, that he almost wanted to stay nearby.

They had left the others after Renata had finished her story and their questions had run out, but neither one of them had known what to do next. After worrying for so long about these people, they had become gargantuan in their minds. The royal four had taken up so much of their energy and concern that there was room for little else. Now that worry was gone. They weren't the monsters they had thought they would be. Of course they weren't, they were just a bunch of teenagers who were struggling to find their own way on the planet they had been sent to. Hopefully, they would find their own directions and let that be the legacy of their people.

Jordan had hoped that their meeting would also put an end to Renata's nightmares but she had woken up screaming in the dark of night yet again. He had tried to get her to explain what she had seen in her dream but Renata had refused. Something had changed though, but he couldn't decide quite what it was. With any luck, she would share her terrors with him eventually.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Renata asked, crossing the room to gingerly sit down next to him on the bed.

Jordan nodded slowly. "I think so. They have each other to lean on as well as the humans they've become attached to. I think they'll make it."

"I didn't tell them what they wanted to hear. They wanted to believe that the war was the fault of the others, that our people were just innocents who were attacked and persecuted without cause."

"True, but you were right to tell them the truth, even if I disagreed at the time. They deserved to know the facts and not just a bunch of propaganda." Jordan reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. "I admire you for that."

"For what? For being a heartless bitch who crushed any hopes they might have held of returning home?" Her self-disgust filled the room.

"No, for being who you are. No matter how we chose to accept it, in some weird realm two of those kids are, in a way, your parents. You knew that going into it and yet you didn't pull away. I don't know if I could have done what you did. Besides, you did notice how much they depended on the humans, didn't you? Do you really think they would have left them behind?"

"We'll never know now. At least they won't go off to fight in that ridiculous war and end up dying for an unworthy cause."

"Rena?" Jordan rested a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her to face him.

"What is it?"

"I had hoped that your nightmares would go away after that talk yesterday."

"You're not the only one."

"Last night's dream… it was different wasn't it?" Jordan needed to know what she was experiencing; he couldn't be prepared unless she gave him some kind of information.

"Yeah, it was," she whispered. "Let's just say I was let in on a little secret that even I hadn't remembered. Don't worry, baby. It'll be okay." She smiled sadly, leaning toward him to place a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek.

He pulled her to him, sending them both crashing back into the mattress, a surprised laugh escaped Renata's mouth before he slanted his mouth over hers. In the tiny hotel room, miles from home and surrounded by the sounds of an insistent rainstorm, they lost themselves in one another, ignoring for the moment their forsaken destinies and the weight of their knowledge, content to simply be human and alone and at peace with the world they had accepted.

~~~

"Hey, chika!" Maria grabbed her apron from her locker and frowned at the huge alien eyes that stared back at her, the alien theme was getting pretty old and she was never free of it. Tiny alien eyes followed her around her home and giant ones greeted her at work.

Liz walked into the break room and leaned against the lockers. "You rang, Maria?"

"Funny. Michael wants to go see The Tempest's last show on Wednesday. For all her warnings and demands that we stay clear of her, Renata even agreed. You up to it?" Maria reached behind her, tying the offending apron in place; at least when she wore it, it wasn't staring at her, it was staring at her customers… or rather her pelvis was staring at her customers which wasn't such a pleasant thought. It might make a great intro for a porno movie though…

"Are you sure she agreed?" Liz was eager to listen to another performance but not at the risk of her own well-being. She'd seen an angry Renata in action and didn't want to conjure up her wrath.

"Yep, talked to her myself."

"Okay, I'll ask Max if he wants to go too then."

"Groovy, man!" Settling the antennaed tiara on her head, she smiled at her best friend.

"You must be going through mom withdrawal, you never say groovy unless she's been away a long time," Liz chuckled.

"Hey!" Michael's voice called out from the kitchen. "Are you two waiting for the food to grow legs and deliver itself?"

Liz laughed and returned to her duties, leaving Maria behind sticking out her tongue at the offending cook. She laughed again as she caught what Maria told Michael.

"This is an alien diner, why don't you just levitate it to the tables. You know, give all the little kiddies a show?"

Maria dashed out to join Liz, narrowing missing the tomato that sailed across the break room, splatting juicily against the wall. "You'd better clean that up, lover-boy. We wouldn't want Mr. Parker to know you're wasting the produce!"

~~~

After spending two and a half days trying to digest everything that Renata had told them but still reeling from it all, the royal four and their human friends and companions descended again on the Star Seeds. The throng, if possible, was even larger then before, crowding into the darkened club and exceeding the fire code by at least half. Renata's voice was almost addictive.

They pushed near the stage, anxiously awaiting the return entertainment. At last, Jordan and Sayer took the stage, waiting for the focal point of their band to join them. Before she graced the stage, Jordan reached out and took the microphone from the stand.

"Good evening! Renata will be out shortly but she asked me to thank you all for you're attendance and let you know that this will not only be our last performance here in Roswell, but it will be the final performance of The Tempest anywhere."

A deafening groan filled the club, and Michael, Maria and everyone else in their group looked expectantly at Jordan.

When he continued, he looked directly at the group of friends. "I know, but everything must come to an end and it has been decided that this is the time for it to happen to The Tempest. We appreciate your support and ask you to understand our decision, it wasn't an easy one for any of us to make." He turned and looked behind him. "So, without further ado, I present you with Renata Birdsong for her final singing appearance!"

Renata stepped out into the spotlight, smiling at the crowd whose cheers swelled with her presence.

"What's going on?" Maria turned to look questioningly at Michael.

"I don't know…"

Renata stood next to Jordan as the first song began. For lack of a better word, she looked dead.

Renata had lost the beautiful healthy glow she had possessed only a few days earlier, her cheeks were sunken and her eyes were framed with dark circles. She looked like she had lost a good thirty pounds from her already slender frame, an impossibility due to the short time in which it would have needed to happen. The looked like she was dying, but how could that be?

Her apparent failing health hadn't affected her voice though. It's hypnotic resonance floated through the crowd, enchanting everyone who listened. She sang with abandon, relishing the tones that filled her mouth.

She had accepted the inevitable, she hadn't been fully aware of the consequences of her determined actions until she had been assaulted by the vision in the cave: Kashir had devised her own clone with a personal self-destruction device. If she went against her imposed destiny and refused to help the royal four return home, she would die. Once she had come into contact with the others, a reactant in her molecular structure would be triggered and begin to weaken her human body. If she were to return, the problem would be reversed and she would be able to live out her life there, if she did not return, her body would begin a rapid decline and she would perish.

When Michael had entered her hotel room, when she grabbed his shirt and pushed him outside, he had unwittingly triggered the deadly sequence of events. When she had touched him, a half-forgotten memory had crawled across her brain and was more fully revealed when she dozed off in Jordan's arms after Michael had fled her room. The nightmare had jarred her awake just after Jordan left that morning and she knew what she had to do. She had to tell the others what she knew, to explain the truth before it was too late. Returning was never a viable option.

The vision in the cave had been even more revealing. She had spent her whole existence on Earth wanting to be loved for who she was. She had found that love in Jordan and had hoped, at one time, to find it again when she returned to her true home. But the woman in her vision hadn't loved Renata, she had loved Kashir. Had she decided to return, she would have been expected to be Kashir and that was not an acceptable option. Realizing that, she was content to reveal the truth to those she had been sent after, and spend what time she had left with the only person who would truly care about her for who she was, not who she had been.

She had but one regret, she hated the thought of leaving Jordan.

Hours later, she stepped up to the microphone for one last song, one of her favorites:

I could wile away the hours… conferring with the flowers… consulting with the rain…

And my head I'd be scratchin'… while my thoughts were busy hatchin'…

if I only had a brain.

I'd unravel… any riddle… for any individal… in trouble or in pain…

With the thoughts I'd be thinkin'… I could be another Lincoln…

If I only had a brain.

She slowly descended the stage, making her way to the objects of her concern, a small smile playing at her features. Standing in front of the group, she stopped, singing only for them among the dense crowd.

Oh I… could tell you why… the ocean meets the shore,

I could think of things… I'd never thunk before… and then I'd sit… and think some more.

I would not be… just a nothin'… my head all… full of stuffin'… my heart… all full of pain…

Perhaps I'd deserve you… and be even worthy of you…

If I only… if I only had… a brain.

the end

***note: That's it, folks. That particular version of the song I got from a Harry Connick Jr. CD years ago, I'm not sure which one it was, but I've never forgotten how hauntingly beautiful it was. It's even become my child's favorite lullaby, as well as a great way to get a really good tip when some lovey-dovey couple sits at one of my tables… yes! It's the incredible serenading waitress!!!